The Dragon and the Foxes
by laurose
Summary: Fantasy AU set in an alternate, kitsune/Ainu Japan. Schuldig/Ran : Gojyo/Sanzo : Nagi/Nanami. Warning, allusions to child molesting.


Disclaimer: Neither the Saiyuki nor the Weiss characters belong to me.

Thanks to my long-suffering beta, Sybil Rowan.

This story was instigated by a prompt in the very recworthy livejournal community, saiyuki_wk_au

Author's notes: this alternate Japan may seem less backward, if you remember it's set in our nineteenth century. It's not meant to be better, or worse, only different.

I've kept the same surnames, but here they're inherited through the mother.

* * *

(Palace of Eternal Spring, in the hills of East China)

The Emperor of East China believed himself the incarnation of the Jade Emperor, Lord of Heaven. No one dared tell him otherwise, and quite a few profited from this belief.

His palace never let anyone forget it. As much of the building or furniture as could be was made of jade. The rest was inlaid with it. All silks and velvets were green. The few things brown or white looked out of place, but turned out to be jade as well. Everything was on a scale slightly too large, and as pretty-pretty as possible.

Walking through it, Hanae's red burned bright. The origins of the Emperor's concubine from the Ezo Islands were clear. The kitsune had intermarried with the Ainu, as well as teaching them their magic. The mixed race had absorbed later immigrants. Red hair was common. Hanae underlined it by her red gown, and red and silver slippers. Further, even now she walked with a straight back and firmer step than the highbred ladies of a Han court.

There were no windows. Hanae carried a lamp of oiled paper. That, at least, wasn't green. The shadows it cast around her were, though.

Though she looked confident, Hanae's eyes were even warier than normal. The corridors she walked now were mostly space fillers, so the Emperor could claim a larger palace than his predecessors. But some very odd folk had moved into the unused space.

One of the oddest emerged from a corridor to meet her. He deliberately approached her from behind and smiled toothily as she tensed. "Lady Cherry Blossom! I can trust you to be punctual." His filthy robes had once been the white of mourning, and he smelled of dead meat and formaldehyde.

"Dr Nii," she said without enthusiasm. "This is important for me. Cho is the best general His Imperial Majesty has. This will be better for Ezo. But I must know why you are helping me."

She'd heard rumours Nii had been Ezo once and wondered if he had a grudge against his country. But he said, "Knowledge is its own justification, you know. Cho is quite a unique specimen." He smiled at her with the nearest Nii got to warmth. "I'm always interested in the unusual."

Hanae reminded herself never show fear to predators, even to scavengers like Nii.

* * *

(Turtle City [Kochi])

On one hand, Aya's parents had wanted to give their only daughter the spacious room fitting the heir to the Fujimiya estates. On the other, the Fujimiya town house was in the middle of Turtle City, and every square inch was worth its weight in jade.

The laws of physics had won, as usual. The room was plushly carpeted, with several Persian rugs woven together in the newest style. When the sun rose, the real glass window in the thick stone wall would have a good view of the quilt of roof top gardens, which gave Turtle City its name. But it was a small bedroom into which Aya had tried to cram the bare essentials.

The library of an apprentice landholder, including both volumes of _Kinugawa's_ _Legal Encyclopedia._ The inevitable corner shrine to the fire goddess, the lamp's undying flame bright enough for eyes used to poor night lighting. A small coffee set, nominally to practice the coffee ceremony with, but actually to keep her awake while studying or sitting up with friends. Those clothes needed for an apprentice noblewoman, which simply couldn't be fitted into her maid's smaller room. The daringly Chinese prints of outdoor scenes, which hung on the walls, did little to help. No wonder street plays and ballads were full of rich folk who coveted their poor neighbours' living space.

Her elder brother was lean, but he was reasonably tall and had broad shoulders. He opened the thick, teak door, and stayed in the doorway.

At the last moment he hesitated, wondering if it would be kinder to go without saying goodbye. Aya must have been awake already. She sat up, and shook her head when she saw he was already wearing bamboo armour. She rolled out of her box bed and wrapped the nearest blanket around her. "Not already?"

"Admiral Cho's fleet sailed earlier than our spies had thought." Ran wondered if that was what all China's elaborate secrecy about its fleet was about, or if they really thought Ezo hadn't heard of it at all.

They looked at each other. Ran was young enough to be self conscious when his sister hugged him, but he returned it. It even eased the cold tension in his chest, briefly. "Tell them...well, you'll know better what to say." Their parents were still away in the Fujimiya country estate, readying the peasants in case the Chinese reached land.

She looked up at him. Her fingers curled into the flat, narrow weave of his armour and wouldn't let go. The Way of the People taught this life as a brief prelude to a real and better one. But he was the only brother she had.

Before she could say anything, Ran said, "I know you're not quite sixteen yet, but I got you your present in advance." He carefully lifted her hands from their hold.

Aya said with dignity, "A piece of jewellery isn't going to make me feel better."

He said sheepishly, "I didn't think of jewellery." He took from his sleeve a small rod of silver, the intricate and deep carvings on it was enameled in several colours.

Aya said politely, "A spellbreak. How nice!" She already had several, flossier than this one.

"It looks like an ordinary spellbreak." For a second, as he showed her this new toy, he forgot other things. "But if you press just right of the doubleback..." Six inches of sharp steel blade sprang out. Aya jumped.

Aya didn't seem to think it was going to be of much use, and Ran really hoped she was right.

Aya's view was the Ezo had always defeated invaders, so they would continue to defeat invaders, even if her beloved brother had to die heroically. Ran wasn't quite as sure. He'd not yet gone on his first foray, but he'd listened, like any boy, to the salted.

True, the Ezo had the advantage in sorcery, since serious magic always needs the backing of the land and the ancestors. That didn't mean the Chinese had no magic at all. And all the time they were trading for better weapons from Europe.

Aya reached out. "Right now?"

Ran looked through the window. The sky outside was definitely greying. He stepped away, and closed the door.

It was too early in the morning even for house servants to be up. Ran walked through empty rooms. Though the house was stone - in the last century there had been three serious tries at burning the Fujimiyas to death, plus a couple of feints – the rooms had been built long and narrow with rounded corners, in the style of the traditional Ezo loghouse, and even paneled with near unburnable teak. As he walked through them, the patterned, silver spellshields running the length of the coffered ceilings caught the moving light of his tin mesh lantern, magnified and broke the reflection into a chaotic looking river.

Shallow-stepped and zigzagging, the stairs, too, had been built for defense. They were stairwells. The left, for the side facing down the stairs, was close to shield, the right gave enough room to swing a blade. He hesitated before going down them.

The housekeeper was actually some distant relation of his mother. A poor relation, whose mother hadn't had enough money to buy her younger daughters a place in trade or a profession. She would like him to say goodbye. But her daughter slept in the same room. Aya and Sakura had more or less settled between them, that instead of marrying some rich girl, Ran was going to marry Sakura and stay with them forever. He didn't want another goodbye.

He told himself both of them would want to sleep as late as possible.

The narrow entry hall, built of heavy logs, held an armed guard, of course. Ran had expected him to be half asleep in the dark hall, and wouldn't have blamed him. No honorable landholder would assassinate his rivals when they were needed to fight a foreign enemy. But he'd lit a lantern and was talking to a mage.

The mage had fire coloured hair, bound back with a wreath of yellow aconite, and wore a jacket of green snake skins. The sheath on his right hip held a good sword, and the one on his left hip held a human thigh bone, carved into a flute to summon and master the winds.

A white wolf lay beside him.

Somehow suddenly looking ten times more military, the guard stood alertly at the door, out of earshot of soft conversation.

Schuldig should have been helping Ran's parents at the estate, and there were many bad reasons he wasn't. Still, there was also one good one, and the wolf was here. He went down on one knee before the wolf and stretched out his hand. "Jei?"

The wolf sniffed his fingers, but only a wolf looked back. Ran backed off before the wolf would read his stare as aggression.

Jei had changed his form far younger than he should, and more deeply. The village had sent him to several renowned healers and shrines. All those unpleasant cures had done was give him a deep hatred of priests.

There was still hope he would recover, but Schuldig shook his head. "No. I thought Oracle could use another sorcerer. They say this is going to be a hard fight." He hesitated. "I happened to be passing." If it occurred to Ran the Fujimiya house was nowhere near the Street of Sorcery, and by Jei's huff it seemed to have occurred even to the wolf, he took it for granted Schuldig was on business of his own. Though they'd known each other all their lives, on and off, Ran hadn't much idea of what that business would be.

Schuldig's uncle had worked the weather for the main Fujimiya estate, and Schuldig had grown up in the Fujimiya castle with the younger Ran. Then he'd gone to a shrine to turn off all the little whispering voices, that too often turned out to be real, and learned to use his power to control magic. He'd come back with a sharp sense of mage superiority. Ran had been told young mages generally went through this stage, until they learned better, but he and Schuldig weren't as close as they'd been before.

Schuldig didn't tell him more, but shrugged indifferently. "I thought I'd drop off a protective charm." He held out gold earrings.

Ran looked at the charm. It was a simple one, often used to protect children; though the charm wasn't usually gold. Ezo, that country of mages, valued silver for its power to break magic. But even more valuable was gold, which can store and amplify magic. The blood taken in piercing the earlobes would be used to start the spell. And if it was Schuldig's, it would be strong. He shook his head. Politely, "Not in the field." The fleet sorcerers might need his death for their magic. Besides, private sorcery might throw theirs awry.

Schuldig's hard mouth crooked a moment. "For Aya, then." To the guard, "You'll see Lady Aya gets them this morning? And could I leave Jei here?" Schuldig would be working with a lot of priests. Ran looked at him. Schuldig valued Jei. To bring him into a city which might soon be invaded, to guard Aya, said much. He nodded. He never knew what to say.

Schuldig asked hopefully, "The henyard?" When Ran shook his head the wolf whined. To the guard again, "And that she gets the wolf, too." The guard looked at Jei rather unhappily. The Ezo didn't have massive folklore of malevolent wolves, but Jei wasn't a lapdog. Jei grinned.

While the guard opened the door for them, Schuldig stood looking at Ran.

Ran wondered if Schuldig was going to get soppy on him. He should have known better. The wind sorcerer didn't look soft at all. "If you get yourself killed, I'll have your hide."

Ran believed him.

As the outer door was closed behind them, Ran stepped down onto the cobblestone pavement. He braced his shoulders against new weight. The foundations of that big, old house had been magicked to deflect earthquake. As a side effect the pull of gravity was slightly less inside the house.

When they were out in the street, Ran looked up its whitewashed stone walls to the small patches of sky. The grey had the faint mist which meant a hard, bright blue later. They were in a hurry, but they were careful not to try shortcuts; they took the exact route they knew. Like many Ezo towns, Turtle City had decided town planning, like monarchy and Buddhism, was too Chinese. The savviest native could get lost if they took the wrong winding alley.

Hearing a faint roar like the sea, Schuldig asked, "Are we at the harbour already?"

Ran said flatly, "That isn't the sea." They were brave men, but they didn't feel any shame when they started to run.

* * *

Sha Gojyo stood in his dirty little hovel of a hotel room and listened to the mob.

It cried out threats against Chinese. In fact, it was killing anyone it met. But if just one of its lunatics remembered the vagrant Chinaman in that undefended hotel...Gojyo packed faster.

He wouldn't have bothered to pack if he'd had his choice. The little junk he'd accumulated wasn't worth losing his life for, and would probably be stolen before too long. He was waiting for someone.

An inconsiderate, sullen brat! It was by no means the first time Gojyo had cursed himself for taking in the starving boy. Or possibly cub would be more appropriate.

The kid seemed to have been adopted young by one of Ezo's magic wielding, solitary mountain shamans. Raised half feral, to judge from the results. He hadn't even seemed to have a proper name, for human society. He'd mentioned having been given a name to use in the spirit worlds, but those were always a secret. Gojyo had called him Sanzo, in sarcasm, using a West Chinese title for a High Holy. It seemed less sarcastic now. Besides having been made full shaman at some absurdly young age, Sanzo was developing into a mage formidable even by Ezo standards.

His foster father had been killed by a pack of some slightly different shamans, butchered for ingredients for dark magic. Sanzo had been searching for the killers when he and Gojyo met. Gojyo had found him picking through a rubbish heap for food.

Sanzo didn't know their names, or what cult they belonged to. And then, he'd hardly known there was any world beyond his own little mountain. He was still looking. Gojyo was ready to bet a large sum against the murderers leading long lives.

Ezo wasn't hospitable to a child without kin. The only offers to take the kid off his hands were ones he could never have accepted. Though when Sanzo was being his worst he almost wished he had. It would have served the brothel keepers right. Gojyo had really disliked the way some people assumed he was dragging a beautiful child around for their reason. (Or Sanzo was dragging him around, it might have looked to the dispassionate observer.) It had lost Gojyo a lot of good one night stands.

Gojyo ignored how glad he'd been to have someone permanent in his life.

The beautiful child was growing into a gorgeous teenager. Gojyo expected him to take a better offer than Gojyo's hand to mouth vagrancy. And to leave without a backward glance.

Gojyo looked around the hotel room. No fire shrine in this room. The only light which didn't leak through the walls, and considering how time had warped them that was a large amount, came from the small, bad-smelling tapers he'd bought at a street stall. The cheap, clapboard walls had been whitewashed about ten years ago. A few yellow scraps still hung on the wall.

But Sanzo mustn't leave now. Not with the Turtle City mob baying for the blood of any stranger.

"That's it," he said, apparently to the slime-greened washbasin. Some time it had been kicked off the waterpipe and propped against the_ north_ wall. "I'm leaving."

He picked up Sanzo's bag and put it down again. Sanzo would be angry whether he touched it or left it, but there was some mountain shaman stuff in there he didn't want to mess with. Gojyo sat down on the edge of the bed. He'd been in Ezo long enough to ask himself what sort of bed didn't even have sideboards. With the damp dripping through the ceiling, a roofed bed would have been very useful. "Right now," he assured the basin.

He thought of Sanzo coming back to find himself deserted. His imagination insisted on putting an angry mob at his heels. He was pretty sure any mob would be angered by Sanzo. The kid despised stupidity, and didn't scruple to show it. The ferret-like hotel manager was just the type to turn a guest over to the mob.

The room didn't have a window. Gojyo had found it easy enough to pull a few nails out of the soft wood so two of the planks swung apart. He meant to use it for exit, and it had a view of the back alley. Its constant draft of cold air was at least fresher than the hotel room. He walked over the sticky floor to peer for any signs of Sanzo.

Someone was peering back.

Gojyo jumped backward. Even in his surprise, he was checking the glimpsed face against the long list of people who had a grudge against him. Those big golden eyes were new to him.

Sanzo's velvety voice spoke from the other side of the stranger. "We haven't all day, idiot. Haul him in so we can get out of sight."

The stranger said indignantly, "I don't need his help!" He'd scrambled through the gap by the time he'd finished speaking.

Gojyo stared at him speechlessly. At first sight, he thought he was a little younger than Sanzo, and then something made Gojyo decide that might be wrong. He was certainly smaller, neatly strong, with a shock of brown hair and those golden eyes. He also had wore a band around his head, with the lustre of real gold. Even if it was thin gilding, and it didn't look like it, it was a ridiculously expensive hairpiece. He wore a street robe of poor quality linen, the poor man's usual brick red of grassroot dye, and his boots were the bark ones of a peasant. Nothing fitted well. Gojyo was sure it all stolen.

With Gojyo, speechlessness never lasted long. He asked, "Who in all hells are you?"

"Who in all hells are you?"

Their attention was drawn by Sanzo pulling himself through the gap in the wall. He was fit, but it was a tighter squeeze for him, and both of them rushed to help, Gojyo taking his left arm, the stranger his right. Once he was through, neither let go.

He shook them off, with a flash of his eyes. Even in the dim light, they still looked violet, as his hair still had gold.

Gojyo urged, "We've got to get out right now!"

Sanzo growled, "Idiot! With that mob, we stay indoors."

"But the manager - "

"I'll speak to the manager." Sanzo crossed over to his bag. Seeing it had been moved he gave Gojyo a deadly glare. Then he took out his rainbow robe, the bright feathers seeming to burn in the dull and dirty room. He slid into it without the quickening spells, but the feathers still glittered brighter, and the whole robe seemed to quiver like one great wing. He also picked up his fan, made from raven feathers. Then he turned to Gojyo. "This is Goku. Don't take the binding from his head, he's a demon." To Goku, "This is Gojyo. Don't eat him."

Goku whined, "But I'm hungry."

"You've eaten enough already." Sanzo stalked out, the swish of his robe sounding oddly like voices whispering.

Gojyo looked at Goku, and Goku looked back, equally critical. Gojyo had kept an ear on the roar of the mob, but now it seemed to ebb. He also kept an ear open for what Sanzo was doing downstairs. He couldn't figure out whether the silence was good or not. "A demon, eh? What does Sanzo want with a demon? And which hell are you from?"

"An old one, over east a way. You won't have heard of it. Our god Ascended a long time ago. I don't know if Sanzo really wants a demon. He rescued me from a bad place. They'd put me to sleep, but I think I remember a room all dark. It was cold. And I was so hungry."

"What did they want with a demon?"

Goku shrugged. Then his head turned to the door. His eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared. For a moment he looked dangerous.

Sanzo walked in carrying a platter of food. "They were draining his power."

He handed the food to Goku, who said blissfully, "Ooh, fishbuns! My favourite!"

Sanzo looked at him with something, which in anyone else, could have been taken for a smile. "I thought griddle chips was your favourite?" He took off and folded away his robe. Gojyo thought he heard it sigh in protest.

Through a packed mouthful of fishbun, "My favourite's whatever I'm eating."

Gojyo asked, "Who're _they_?"

No, Sanzo definitely wasn't smiling. "The Takatoris."

Gojyo wasn't surprised to hear it. The Takatoris might pretend to respectability, but from street gossip they were just the sort to abuse their demons.

Having finished his fishbuns at a speed which should have been physically impossible, Goku said, "I love you, Sanzo! Can I sleep with you?"

Gojyo sputtered. He was the more annoyed because Sanzo didn't show the instant rage he usually did to such a question. One of the few social rules Sanzo's mentor had taught him was about molestation. It had taken Gojyo weeks to get Sanzo to accept Gojyo wasn't interested in kids. "You little - "

Sanzo snapped, "Shut up, the pair of you! I'd hit you with the fan, except your heads would damage it. Gojyo, you know demons aren't sexual beings. They're conceived by other ways. The brat just needs warmth. Goku, you should know enough about humans not to talk like that."

Gojyo glared at Goku. "You can sleep on the floor."

Sanzo picked up his bag. "Nobody's sleeping here. We're leaving."

Both of them looked at Sanzo. It was Gojyo who said, "But the mob's gone."

"And what happens when they start coming back? They've got to get home."

"I thought you'd dealt with the manager."

"It'll last two minutes. At least he thinks we're settled for the night."

Goku skimmed between the planks with ease and accepted the two bags. Gojyo hadn't quite got used to his full adult size, and didn't fit as well through the planks as he thought he would. In the end Goku pulled, and Sanzo pushed, hard. One plank cracked, and Gojyo fell through on top of Goku.

They rolled apart. While Sanzo swung out smoothly, they glared at each other.

"Bum!"

"Imp!"

"Shut up!" snapped Sanzo. Without bothering with his bag, he stalked off. They picked up a bag each and followed him.

* * *

(Net of Coral [East China Sea])

Ran could tell at sight which of the guard were new to Turtle City. They were the ones confident the tall, thick double walls they were patrolling would keep out the mob. Those who'd lived longer in the city were tense and ready for anything.

Their heavy mail dark against the dark wall, the guards were patrolling not in twos but fours. As Schuldig and Ran stepped up onto the raised path around the walls, the nearest four hurried over to them. Anxiety made their gestures more threatening than they meant. One said, "Which way is the mob going?"

Schuldig said, "We weren't near enough - " He looked over the shoulders of the guards and for a moment looked as wolfish as Jei. Ran hardly needed to follow his gaze. Kikyou would be on duty this watch.

Schuldig and Kikyou hated each other. True, Kikyou hated everyone, except apparently a few rich and powerful people he could profit from, though Ran suspected he hated them, too. Schuldig, however, he distinguished as particularly inconvenient. Schuldig, too, considered a day in which he'd tricked or harmed Kikyou a day to be treasured. Ran didn't like what Kikyou made Schuldig.

Tall, finely made, looking especially handsome in the dark mail of the harbour guard, Kikyou sauntered up, with his charming smile and cold, blue-grey eyes.

Ran said, "We don't have time for this." He put his hand on Schuldig's shoulder.

Schuldig nodded, cupped his hands under Ran's foot, and tossed him to the top of the high wall. The boundary spell burned cold on his skin for a second, then recognised him as allowed. Ran lay face down along the top, reached down just in time to catch Schuldig's hand as he jumped up, and swung him up. Schuldig being Schuldig, he didn't just sit on the wall, but vaulted spectacularly right over it to the ground. Ran slipped after, almost as quickly.

Even before Kikyou could get through the gate, they'd disappeared into the crowd. They went in opposite directions.

Ran told himself he hadn't been looking forward to another farewell, and that he didn't know why he felt a bit let down. There were questions he wanted to ask Schuldig. But they could wait until after the fight, and he didn't expect to survive the fight. They would just burden someone who was, anyway, a friend.

At one end of the quay, a high pier had been built from which to survey and direct harbour defense and weather. On it now were several flags. There were various devices but all had the black background of magic users. Few of the people there were armoured. In the centre of their assembly was Crawford, his long white robe glittering from its little disc-shaped mirrors. Most people would have considered the ceremonial dress of an Oracle a bit overpowering for everyday wear, Crawford liked people to know who they were dealing with. He was attended by three elderly lackeys, each a mage of the first rank.

The other end had far more fighters and flags, all with the white background of magic-less warfare. If Ran hadn't already known where the Tsukiyono squadron was moored, he might never have found it.

Omi Tsukiyono was directly beneath the freesia flag. He was calmer than most of the sailors there. Though he was younger than Ran, he'd already had his salting voyage, and done well enough, in exceptionally bloody circumstances, so no one had seriously complained when he was put in charge of the clan's squadron. The Fujimiyas were landholders, but the Tsukiyonos were fleetmasters. Ever since the Mongols had tried to invade, that had meant more.

At Omi's right shoulder stood Ken Hidaka. The Hidakas had the traditional duty of right hand guard to the Tsukiyonos, while the Fujimiyas guarded the left. Both Ran and Ken's cousins had died for those duties on Omi's voyage.

Omi was talking to Kudoh, the head of Tsukiyono covert ops. While most of his work was gathering information, Kudoh had done sabotage and assassination in his time, and done them well. He was telling Omi, "We can have them in the water within ten minutes. As for afterward..." He shrugged with lazy elegance, and touched the silk garotte wrapped around his wrist.

Omi said mildly, "I tested them myself." Yohji's parting nod was brief. No Chinese-style bowing in Ezo, but Kudoh was casual even for a Ezo. Unfazed, Omi turned to Ran. "Good morning, friend Ran."

Ran offered a cupped palm in the Ezo-style salute. "Good morning, sir." He gave a rather wary nod to Ken. On their last meeting, Ken had said something about inland families. By Turtle City standards it could have been a crack about bumpkins. Ken gave him a dazzling, uncomplicated smile. Even Ran had to realise Ken was indeed as straightforward as he looked, and let it go.

Omi said, "You've both learned to get about on a boat, and help, but today leave that to the crew. As you can see, we've got her rigged up in a new way." He nodded at his flag ship. Ken would have seen and understood the difference before Ran, but now even Ran could see her rigging was faintly off, and even the shape of her hull. She looked slightly flattened. "It should outsail anything the Chinese fleet has, but the crew has been trained to it."

Ken whistled appreciatively. Omi looked modest.

Ran found he and Ken were a real help in getting the smaller Omi through the crowd. Besides the rush of the early sailing, there were people who'd stopped to admire the new ship. As he followed Omi on board, Ran found the ship surprisingly stable. Perhaps those light looking guns were heavier than they seemed.

The crew had the cheerful air of people who were on a winner and knew it. Even the two fire mages didn't look as unhappy at getting wet as they normally did. Still, both mages and seamen would have been so relieved if the mages hadn't been essential, one to burn the enemy ships, and one to defend against the enemy's burning.

On the forecastle Omi gave the traditional speech. He spoke quietly, which made the crew strain to listen. "Our scryers have seen the Chinese fleet has swung south, and will be cutting across the current to further cut down the time we have to prepare. They don't realise the fleets of Ezo are always ready. Admiral Cho won't have allowed for how long it will take him to sail across the winds and currents. He did well enough as a land general, but he doesn't know ships, and we know how good the Chinese are at listening to their subordinates, don't we?

"Our fleet will be using the current to get east of them, and then the wind mages have given us a strong easterly," he touched something at his throat, "so we get _them_ before they expect it.

"Our men and our magic beat them on their own ground. They're not going to do better in Ezo waters."

To get to the battle, the wind mages had piped up a brief burst of westerly. The sailors scattered to work involving ropes and sails. Even a novice like Ran could feel the smooth fast acceleration of the ship.

Just behind the forecastle, the fire mages bent over work which seemed to involve coffee. Omi sat on the forecastle and looked benevolent and confident. Ran could hardly see the shadow of worry in his bright blue, smiling eyes.

Oracle had said Tsukiyono squadron should take the starboard wing. If the ships behaved as expected, that meant, as the Ezo fleet wheeled south, they would be the first to sight and engage the enemy. The other squadrons would be close behind, but maybe not close enough.

Omi had spoken of it as an honour. It showed the Tsukiyono squadron was the best. But then all the other commanders knew their own squadron the best, too. Ran couldn't help remembering Oracle was hand in glove with Reiji Takatori. The Tsukiyono clan was a dangerous rival to the Takatori, especially with his son's brains. Reiji's elder sons had been born into clans client to the Takatori, but he would be glad to rid himself of the youngest.

The lookout at the prow brought his arm around in a great half circle and pointed his arm, full length. Omi took the bird bone whistle from around his neck and blew. The strong wind which had been stored inside it came out with a speed which caught even experienced Ezo sailors unaware. All the ships of the Tsukiyono squadron bucked, and then keeled over in a race for their enemy.

Omi looked around for his bow, and Ran handed it to him, a moment slower than he should have been. Ken was already holding his quiver convenient. They would use their own weapons when the fighting grew close quarters, but the archers' opening volley might be vital.

In the race, Omi's new ship outpaced the rest. Ran spotted the enemy ships quickly. A small crowd of sea gulls flew above them. They wouldn't all be sea gulls, of course. The first thing he noticed was the bare masts of the enemy ships. Then he saw the great paddles beating at their sides. Despite their lack of sails, they were making good speed. Size is hard to judge at sea, but he was pretty sure they were considerably bigger than any Ezo ship.

Omi told Ran, "Have the signaller break out the flag for rocks ahead." That took Ran only a moment, but on the way back he met Ken going with further orders for the signaller.

Ran just caught Omi's question to the fire mages. "Can you reverse your spells, and kill all fire in that fleet?"

The elder mage said, "It'll take time."

"I'll buy you time." Omi returned to his chair, carefully put his bow and quiver out of sight, and told the helmsman, "We're hailing her, not boarding." The helmsman pushed away his swordhilt a little, then trimmed the tiller.

Each warship flew the white dragon of East China, but there was no mistaking the admiral's flag, with the boar emblem.

The Ezo ship ducked under the Chinese ranged shots, just skirting the turbulence from the side paddles. There were heavy guns on the centre battery. The armed troops of this one ship, crowding up on deck, eager to meet with their long hated enemy, outnumbered Tsukiyono's squadron. Ran thought the Ezo lightness and maneuverability might be very useful. Possibly, Omi's rapt concentration was figuring out a plan to use it.

Or possibly, knowing Omi, he was just smitten with this unexpected piece of technology.

The Tsukiyono flagship wheeled right up to under the prow of the admiral's ship. Omi opened his mouth. Then closed it. The steam ships were making a racket. He turned to Ken and asked, "Will you hail them, please?"

Ken shouted at the top of his voice, "Tea kettle ahoy!"

Omi covered his eyes with his hand. "Friend Ken!"

There was enough of a wait for Ran to wonder if he should bring Omi's bow out. There were growls, and threats, until words spoken softly stifled them. At last a smooth, rich tenor answered in strongly accented Ezo, "The Imperial Navy returns the greeting of the Tsukiyono clan."

To be heard, Omi made his voice higher and shriller. It made him sound even younger. Calling up to the crowd staring down at the Ezo sloop, "May I speak to Admiral Cho personally?"

Ran had found the man talking, among a varied lot of faces. For one thing, he was the only one who didn't look bitterly hostile. He had a faint, meaningless smile on his face, and no other expression at all. His drab green clothes were distinguished by a white sash of rank over his shoulder. Ran wasn't surprised when he said, "You are speaking to him."

Ran's eyes were fixed on the East Chinese, watching for a hand to go to a weapon. But he could imagine Omi's bright smile as the young admiral said, "You have invaded Ezo territory, and dragged your unfortunate men along into waters they don't know, depending on foreign ships and guns they can't rely on. I think I can offer you the best way out of this mess."

Cho took out a pair of spectacles, looked at Omi through them, shook his head, and put them away again. "And what is this way?"

"Single combat!" said Omi cheerfully. Ran wanted to take up Omi's bow and shoot a few of the grins off those faces. "If I win, you get to take your men back to China alive." Cho managed to keep his face straight, but Omi had to raise his voice to be heard above the Chinese laughs and jeers. "If you win, the Tsukiyono squadron will withdraw from opposing your passage to Turtle City."

"Only the Tsukiyono squadron?"

"You can send champions against the other squadrons."

Cho didn't raise his voice, but no one had any trouble hearing him. "Even if I wanted to take such an unfair gamble, I can't. I have been charged by His Imperial Majesty Himself to dissuade unlawful Ezo aggression, and I believe an important part of this is by destroying as many Ezo ships as possible. Not just retiring them temporarily."

"Unlawful?" asked Omi. Ignoring what the Ezo thought of any China's laws, he pointed out, "But this has been going on for centuries."

Cho raised his eyebrow. "And now we're going to stop it."

Like Omi's speech, Cho's had been aimed at the Chinese sailors. And Cho had certainly won that battle. There was a burst of cheering from his sailors.

For a second, Ran thought those sailors were beginning to attack the Ezo bare handed, and he whipped Omi's bow into his hand. Then the larger ship seemed to go into reverse, and realised the Chinese were flailing for balance. The Ezo ship sped ahead and away from the other.

The helmsman was already wheeling her back when Omi told him, "We're boarding now." He had the bow up and was drawing the string even while he spoke.

Cho would be just now finding out his coal fired engines had died, and his gunpowder as well, when the Ezo sloop expertly heeled, through a cloudburst of foam, right under the Chinese prow, so close it must have been only inches from tearing the sail. The sloop was borne up by the bigger ship's bow wave. While the Chinese were still on the other side, the Ezo were boarding before the ships had touched. With the briefest glimpse, Ran saw the other Tsukiyono ships grappled with the rest of the Chinese fleet.

Ran was surprised by how fast everything was happening, but he managed to keep up, still guarding Omi's left shoulder while he slung the bow over his own. Enemies were coming at him from all directions. The Chinese were handicapped by not having guns, but there were swordsmen among them, and the rest were swinging improvised cudgels.

A couple even tried throwing a net over the foremost Ezo, which meant Omi. Ran and Ken exchanged a quick glance, caught it on their sword points, and threw it back.

Omi led the way down into the ship. A deep, dark ladder, rank with machine smells, took them down to suffocatingly enclosed living quarters, filled with enemies attacking, but inadequately armed. There was no talk of surrender on either side. Ran told himself it was the close air which made him feel nauseous. Then he lunged in front of Omi to beat away a swung spike, and took point, and there was no more time to feel anything at all.

At length, Omi and his bodyguards found themselves facing Cho. Unlike any of his officers, he was winning his fights, and had backed several Ezo to the very prow. They were almost ready to swim for it, though more than sharks waited them in the sea.

For Cho was no longer looking human. Rather than a normal shapeshifting, he seemed to have melted into something mixed of several beasts, and still near human. He had long teeth and claws. He also had scales, and long tentacles whipping from his bare arms to dispatch the men facing him with superhuman speed. They were green, and moved so fast they seemed to surround Cho with a net.

Omi shouted with anger. The Cho-beast looked from the last dead sailor to them with eyes of a bright but mineral gold. Ken growled. Omi said, "Steady, man." A tiger is a good ally in a fight, but a man well armed is better.

Ran stepped forward and to one side, and was pleased to see Ken mirror his approach from the beast's other side. Omi had known the fighting abilities of the dead sailors better, and said, "Friends, hold a minute." He spoke to the changed Cho. Ran didn't know if it understood him. "You do realise the offer of single combat is withdrawn?"

Ran held out the bow, and Omi waved it away, the gesture becoming a reach for his sword. For a second Ran was puzzled, until he saw Omi's hand flash to his loaded sleeve, and pull out a glittering silver dart.

Which flew so fast into Cho's left eye even the beast had no time to dodge.

Cho cried out, more with rage than pain, and made to charge. Then the pain of having silver in his eye overwhelmed him. Before Ran knew what he was doing, he'd stepped up to his side, sword swinging up.

And then everything stopped.

No. It took only a second for Ran to realise he was the one stopped. He was held as still as a statue. Ken started a growl, which cut off abruptly.

Ran wasn't only immobile like a statue, but felt a dead heaviness creeping through him, from the skin inwards.

This was an earth mage, one of the rarer and more powerful. But they weren't in China. A Chinese mage, even an earth mage, shouldn't be able to...

Cho's crouch straightened. Even before his flesh began to flow like melting wax, and his eyes cooled to green, he somehow looked more human. He put his hand over his eye in a human gesture. He said to someone behind Ran, "Took you long enough." Though his jaws had changed back to human, he spoke with difficulty through the pain. Quickly and efficiently, he began to bandage his eye.

The voice answering him sounded about Omi's age. "I beg your pardon, Admiral. There were many pirates, and they moved fast."

"Well, Naoe, I'm very glad to see you."

A Ezo name! It explained why the mage was so strong. It also kindled rage within Ran. With all his strength, he tried to move one finger, and couldn't. He could move his eyeballs, very slowly. But all he saw was a human Cho, fussily rearranging the white sash to conceal as much of the tears in his clothing as possible, a small section of deck, with bits of bodies around. The sea wind stung his open eyes till they teared. He managed, just, to blink. It took time. While he was doing it, he concentrated on listening. All he heard was the constant roar of the engines, the smithy noises of sword fighting, and voices. There seemed to be far fewer speaking either language than there had been when the fight began.

Ken managed to mumble, "Trait'r."

The young voice said coldly, "Ezo betrayed us first." The cold and weight went on growing into Ran's body.

Cho said, "Maa, maa. We better keep them alive. A bit of inside information might always come in handy."

Ran hadn't realised he hadn't been breathing until his lungs could work.

As he called to his men, Cho's voice took on a sharper edge. "Gentlemen of the guns, don't worry about the freesia ships. Rake that new lot with silver before they come in close enough for that fire quenching trick." As the guns began baying, "Mage Naoe, will you do me the kindness of sinking the Tsukiyono ships, please?" Maybe Omi's eyes showed something, for he said gently, "I'm very sorry, Tsukiyono. But sinking as many Ezo ships as possible is my order. Besides, if those ones with the falcon banner had come to your support, we might have found things quite unpleasant."

Ran was still too paralysed to do more than breathe and blink, so he didn't know if it was him or Ken growling.

From what he could make out, the other Ezo ships stayed out of range of the Chinese guns, which was certainly out of range of their own.

Some of the Chinese crew had stacked the paralysed prisoners out of the way like so much firewood. Ran couldn't feel when he was dropped, or kicked afterward. Cho seemed quite upset at how they'd been treated, and had them put into a cabin. There were quite a few empty ones.

Naoe was walking beside Cho, and beside Naoe, on the other side, a girl much his or Omi's age, with bluegrey hair and bluegrey eyes. Cho asked Naoe wistfully, "I don't suppose you can make them lighter?"

The girl gave a shrill giggle. Even with everything else, its offkey note worried Ran. "Chop parts off them." There was enthusiastic agreement from the crewmen carrying them.

As they jostled to a stop outside the chosen cabin, a Chinese with a fresh slash down his face made to bang Ran's head against the wall. Cho stopped him. "We're the stronger party. A quick, just settlement depends more on us. If we do our duty, this man's children will be loyal subjects of the Emperor."

He followed them into the cabin, explaining, mostly to Omi, "Don't feel bad about losing. Ezo will be stopped. Yes, you've been pirating forever. But it's so much worse lately. Your population has grown from the New World crops. At the same time everyone else is more dependent on trade. If China can't stop you, other nations will."

He picked up a blanket and covered Omi, almost looking like a father tucking in his child. There was still blood trickling from behind his eye's bandage. "You'll find our terms quite reasonable. The taxes will go to pay for a police force, which will finally make Ezo a peaceful country. You'll learn to write, I'm sure you can. The Emperor will give a blanket amnesty to all except a few war criminals."

Naoe cleared his throat.

Cho smiled at him. "And Landholder Hibino, of course. His execution is not negotiable."

The admiral was the last to leave the prisoners. Even seeing them so helpless, his one remaining eye checked out the cabin's security. He addressed them in general, "It's about time Ezo became civilised." Ran heard the hatch close. Then nothing but the unrelenting growl of the ship engines.

There wasn't much time to raise a storm, but he'd expected winds to rise, at least. The ship was sailing as smooth as ever when he heard land noises; more sea gulls, the breaking of waves.

He rather thought he heard the engines of the other Chinese ships. They could have been co-ordinating the first run to bombard Turtle City.

But the noise could have been the blood in his ears as he struggled to move. He could feel the curse strengthening itself from his struggle, but he continued fighting.

He was hurled from the bunk. For a second, he thought he'd broken his curse. Then his brain registered what he'd heard. An explosion below his level, from the ship's hull. The ship was already listing. He breathed as deeply as he could, and went on struggling.

As the ship lurched steeper onto one side, he heard a great wrenching groan from the deck, of timbers parting, and the crash of something going through the rails, accompanied by the cries of falling men. The ship seemed to have lost its deck gun.

Somewhere a beast howled, and a few men screamed in response. Someone seemed to have been panicked into the Change, and was attacking his colleagues..

Only a few moments later Ran heard hurried footsteps outside the door.

Cho opened the door, and surveyed the cabin. He wasn't quite as impassive as he might have imagined. There was a yellow gleam in his green eye, and his smile seemed to have slipped a bit. "You wouldn't know anything about - ?" His question was interrupted by two more explosions, simultaneously going off to either side of the ship they were on. He didn't finish it. His hand clenched on the edge of the door, with talons.

Omi managed a faint croaking noise.

"I do beg your pardon. Naoe!" The young Ezo followed him in. "Will you please remove your curse. And if they try anything, snap their necks."

While that fierce green eye never wavered from him, Omi shook off numbness, then massaged his hands and feet. It took some time, but it gave Ran and Ken time to get ready if they were going to try anything. Outside voices cried in Chinese, and in Ezo. Then he said, "You should have taken the first offer."

Cho snapped, "What _is_ it?"

"Mines," said Omi.

"Technology?" The Admiral looked indignant. "But you're not meant to have modern technology!"

Possibly to divert that gaze from Omi, Ken said, "All the technology we can steal."

Naoe waited for the order. Ran flattened his hand on the carpet for leverage, and braced himself to attack.

Cho shook his head at both him and Ken, and said, "It seems that we still have to discuss surrender terms."

Omi said, "I can't accept your surrender."

Cho listened to the sounds of his crew losing, and said, "I think I can force you to." His eyes considered Ken and Ran, looking where to strike.

Omi went white. "I can't keep Chinese prisoners safe. The mob can get them anywhere in Turtle City, and probably will."

Cho suggested, "Outside the city, then."

"There are plenty of castles in Ezo, but even if the holders let us in, there aren't any determined peasants can't get into. And castles are beside peasant villages."

Ran cleared his throat.

Omi looked at him, just for a moment not understanding. Then he smiled. "Of course. Houtou Castle!"

* * *

(Houtou Castle[near Tokyo])

With a moment's warning, Ran and Ken together might have been difficult for even Crawford to handle. That was why he ambushed them in a dark corridor of Houtou Castle. Faster and surer than any mundane, he punched them unconscious. He stepped over their bodies and loomed over Omi. "It would be better not to obstruct Takatori. He wants the traditional gift for giving up his share of prize money. Give it to him."

"Me?" asked Omi. He must be checking the chances of escaping the corner Crawford had him in. Small. He'd be checking the chances of getting out one of his hidden weapons. Also small. He looked up innocently at Crawford. "These things aren't up to _me_, you know. By tradition, the fleetmasters of the involved fleets - "

"Are only bucking Takatori because of you. You're taking advantage of his shirking to try uniting clans against him. It won't work, Tsukiyono. Fleetmasters are only used to short term alliances, and any you make will dissolve like foam." He put his hand on the junction of Omi's neck and shoulder. The big thumb pressed Omi's throat. "I could have killed your men, and you, and got away with it. Think of that." Got away with that murder for Takatori, and the next, and the next. But there would never be enough to satisfy Takatori.

Or to make his rule safe. That was what kept Omi alive. Crawford had Seen an Ezo united. As the vision came nearer, he Saw under a man as greedy as Takatori either the union would be brief, exploding into violent civil war, or Takatori would call in worse allies than Crawford to keep power. It needed someone smarter than Reiji Takatori. He looked down into Omi's eyes, and Omi looked back as an equal.

He left Omi and the Tsukiyono quarters. He stepped off carpet onto bare stone. The temperature dropped with a speed suggesting Omi had been using magic extravagantly. Crawford wondered if the fleetmaster, so cheerfully oblivious when he wanted, actually believed his talk of how Houtou Castle only needed a bit of time and effort to be livable again. Mages knew better.

Whatever had died at Houtou Castle had left its mark.

Void magic, the earliest of all, is also, in its natural state, the darkest. Great gaps had opened in the thick stone walls, the stone crumbling away to a dust so fine it turned patches of the soil around into glassy, barren clay. There were no wells or springs left. Even the ground that had held them had been squeezed and crumpled, as if something had drained desperately at them for the last drop. Crawford couldn't decide whether gravity was heavier, or people weaker.

Crawford smoothed the dull grey coat he was wearing. He'd change out of it as soon as possible. People were apt to forget he was a good hands on fighter, and Crawford liked to encourage that.

The small room he entered was mainly new timber. The old, cracked floor with its ugly stains had been thickly carpeted with quilts. A double layer of quilts, with good smelling herbs between them. Both the ceiling and the walls were faced with spellshields. When mages use spellshields, it means trouble.

Several windmages were gathered together practising on their variety of flutes, with a stormcaller on his drum tapping regularly. In fact, they were neither summoning shipping winds nor clouds for the farmers, but practising music.

He said to the senior of them. "We'll need a strong, steady west wind, as soon as possible."

* * *

(Turtle City)

The elderly steward just had to tell someone. Since all the regular staff already knew, he came up and talked with the temps.

Sanzo asked, "What's Houtou Castle?" He straightened up and tested his back gingerly. Since Gojyo had taken him under his wing, Sanzo had done a number of hard jobs, but a full day's spadework was new.

It was Goku who'd found them this job. Many of the owners of the city's rooftop gardens, for various reasons, couldn't actually cultivate them. There were a number of contractors who hired the labour for them. They were always looking for workers and had to pay surprisingly well. Though most of Turtle City's cheap labour were peasants from the country, they'd immigrated to the city to get away from this. In fact, they would rather dig ditches and roads.

Their employer was an elderly man with a pleasant smile and sharp eyes, who'd put Gojyo down as 'from Hokkaido' without a murmur. His own roof garden had been converted to shanties for his poorest workers. He also provided medical advice and legal support to those who needed it. An hour a week in his Christian chapel seemed very low rent.

Gojyo liked the missionary, but dreaded the day he tried to convert Sanzo to Christianity. And what about when he realised Goku was a demon? Christians had a reputation for being prejudiced against demons.

This particular job was a flower garden, with gabions and extra terraces to fit more in. Even Gojyo didn't know some of the exotic kinds. They'd taken much longer than expected because Goku kept zoning out. Not that Gojyo could blame him after all his time in darkness.

Both the steward and Goku looked at Sanzo expectantly, not realising it was a simple question.

Gojyo told them, "He was raised on a mountain top." To Sanzo, "I've only got the street version. The mages and landholders would tell it a bit different. It's a story used to warn women not to put their husband before their brother.

"You know how Ezo is all these little landholdings fighting against each other." Sanzo looked at him with impatience. Even in Turtle City the squabbles between retinues of armed retainers was constant. In the countryside they'd found how it made travelling the bandit-ridden mud roads far slower and more dangerous. "Some people dreamed of an Ezo under one lord, perhaps an Emperor, like one of the Chinas. So peaceful and prosperous."

"Idiots," said Sanzo.

Gojyo looked at him sternly. "Some of them really wanted to do it for the good of Ezo. Gyumaoh was the other sort. He married a lady who claimed descent from the Sun Goddess - "

Sanzo pointed out, "But everyone's descended from the Sun Goddess." In Ezo, anyone getting too bossy is told 'You're not kami till you die'.

"I'm not," said Goku.

"Everyone human, I mean."

Gojyo said, considering, "I don't think I am, either. But maybe she came of the line of first born daughters, or something."

The steward told Sanzo, "Gyumaoh was a bit more trouble than most of the wannabes. He got all that divine blood voodoo, and he got some serious kamis on his side."

"Buddhist, no doubt," said Sanzo. He was worldly enough to know the Buddhists usually took the blame.

Both the steward and Gojyo shook their heads. Goku said, "Serious bad guys. There was cannibalism."

Gojyo said, "Weren't you threatening to eat me yesterday?"

Goku said with dignity, "That wouldn't be _cannibalism_."

The steward said, "Anyway, Fleetmaster Tsukiyono's dumped them with the ghosts. They'll be wishing the mob'd got them, if half of what they say about Gyumaoh's true." He looked at the dugover flowerbeds with grudging approval. "I guess if you've time to gossip, you've finished here. The lady of the house would like to see you."

Goku said, "Just a little left. I can finish it off by myself."

Sanzo scowled at him. He knew Goku was far stronger than him. Even wearing the gold limiter, his strength and speed would have made him a one man army for Takatori, if the man hadn't preferred his magic. He could have done the whole garden job far quicker, if Gojyo and Sanzo hadn't to keep reining him in, or refocussing him on the work. Still, Sanzo hated to be treated as weaker. Gojyo said, "Come on, kid."

Crammed into rosebushes of all colours, the gardener's shed was tiny. Gojyo and Sanzo were crowded together as they washed up. Sanzo hissed, "Let me make it plain. You are not my father. Whatever bastard spawned me, my father is buried on the Westshining Mountain."

"Whatever you say, Sanzo. Don't forget to wash your neck."

As Sanzo followed him into the house, Gojyo could almost feel the glare drilling into the back of his neck. Sanzo must have looked back for a check of what his demon was up to. He said irritably, "Don't eat the tulips, Goku!"

"But it's _interesting_! The colours all taste a bit different, and - "

"Don't."

Following the steward, Gojyo and Sanzo left behind the loud noise of Goku not eating tulips.

All the servants were old, but they hadn't seen the mistress of the house. Gojyo had had fancies of a lovely young woman, blooming among the grey heads like one of her own flowers, but he wasn't surprised to find she, too, was old. He saluted respectfully. "Lady Momoe." Not that she was a landholder, but the title was widely used in politeness.

"Good evening. Thank you for coming to see an old lady." She smiled at them both, with a twinkle of bright eyes, and Gojyo preened. She must have been a stunner in her youth.

He answered gallantly, "We have never had a job better worth doing, or a someone more - " when Goku arrived gabbling, "I didn't eat a single tulip, and I washed my hands all the way up to my shoulders, and when do we eat?"

"Shut up," Sanzo told him, but looked at the steward meaningfully, so the man found something to put in Goku's mouth.

"My friend had told me what a good job you've done in the garden. Many men in your position are looking for a permanent job?"

Gojyo shook his head. "I'm very sorry, lady."

"I didn't mean just garden work, though there'll be some of that. But I run a flower shop, and I'm looking for some younger staff to help me."

"It'd be good," said Gojyo. "Sanzo, you could - ?"

"You know who I'm after. And he's not in Turtle City." Sanzo added grudgingly, "Thank you." Gojyo and Goku looked at her, impressed. To get manners out of Sanzo was impressive. Sanzo went on, "But Gojyo needn't come. He - "

"I've got somewhere to go, myself." Gojyo said to the old lady. "It would have been a pleasure to work for you, and thanks."

She raised an elegant eyebrow. Gojyo looked apologetic, Sanzo indifferent, Goku smiled back at her and shrugged. She smiled. Gojyo wondered where she learned not to ask questions. "Then you better have coffee and something before you go."

"Great idea!" said Goku. "Except the coffee."

For once Gojyo was more impatient than Sanzo about a social visit. Goku was dragged off mid bun, still protesting, "But there's no hurry!"

Gojyo was in a hurry. He barely gave them time to collect their luggage from their shanty. Gojyo looked around the quiet street. No one was in earshot, or look as if they wanted to be. "There's hurry, all right. We'll be too late as it is."

Sanzo said dryly, "Would this have something to do with the piece of gossip the old man just told us?"

Gojyo turned on his heel and left the two of them standing there together. Strange, he'd always thought it would be Sanzo leaving him. He walked on toward the main road. He might be able to catch a lift on an oxcart heading in the right direction. If he caught some sleep in carts, and walked the rest of the time...

After a long moment, he heard the sound of two sets of footsteps following, even now reflexively in step with him. Without looking around, he said, "What happened to looking for your father's murderers?"

"They might be in Houtou Castle. We are going to Houtou Castle, I presume." Gojyo looked around then. But night came early among the tall buildings of Turtle City. He couldn't see well enough to read those expressive, violet eyes.

Goku's disgust was plain. "Kamis'n'lightning! Just 'cause the guy's another Chinese?" They caught up to him and walked beside him.

"No. Because of Hyakugen Maoh. You know," he looked at Sanzo and started again. "Us Chinese think if it's Chinese, it's better." Sanzo didn't look as if he cared, but he better know these things. Especially as there was a small chance he might actually meet the guy. Gojyo turned his head, to show he was talking to Goku, but all his attention was on Sanzo. "That includes medicine. Cho Hakkai – he was Gonou then – and his sister were raised Western. They were trying to teach Western things like medicine in the back country. Didn't please Hyakugen one bit. He was making a very good thing out of Chinese medicine, him and his cult. When Gonou's sister fell sick, Gonou went to get a Western doctor, and Hyakugen forced the village where she was to hand her over. Claimed he was going to cure her."

Goku said, subdued, "Guess he didn't." Goku would identify with the sister taken to be a tool.

"She died. So Gonou killed Hyakugen, and killed his sect, and killed the villagers who'd handed her over."

Sanzo sneered. "And that's the guy you want to save."

"That's the guy." Gojyo added, "I passed through that bit of country, when Hyakugen was running it. He wasn't just a quack. He was killing people in other ways, too."

"So you mean to walk to Houtou Castle, which would take about ten days on the best road - "

"Something might happen to delay them," said Gojyo hopefully.

"To tell a good portion of the landsmoot and some of the most powerful mages in Ezo they should let Cho go because he saved the life of some Chinese peasants."

Gojyo tried to think of a better way to put it, but Sanzo had an unpleasant habit of the bald truth. "I'm going anyway."

"No." Sanzo stopped abruptly, and grasped Gojyo's arm as he tried to go on. Gojyo tried to pull away and was surprised. When had the kid gotten so strong? "Never mind the mages and landholders. They'll be gone by the time we get there anyway. One way or the other. Houtou Castle is a place of old, bad power. The idiots will be stirring it up every day they spend there."

Gojyo grinned. "You'll take care of that."

Sanzo gave a 'chh' of frustration. Goku said, timidly, because even a demon doesn't want to get mixed up in a domestic, "I might have the answer."

Sanzo kept holding Gojyo's sleeve. "If you can knock some sense into this idiot's head..."

"I can get us to Houtou Castle quick."

"Ch. Let's get on with it, then."

Now Goku began leading them. Not to the road, but to the sea. They were abruptly walking in back alleys. Both Gojyo and Sanzo checked the weight of the knives in their sleeves.

Gojyo shook his head. He'd been living in Ezo long enough to know sailing was quicker than trudging. Actually getting the passage was another thing. Still... "Imp, the harbour's that way."

Goku didn't sound as cheerful as usual. "We're not going by boat. A – person – I know will give us a ride."

Sanzo sounded resigned. "I gather this person isn't human?"

"No." A moment for thought, between dodging through paving where the stones had been worn down into obstacles. "It _is _dangerous for humans." Goku stopped so suddenly the others almost ran into him. He turned around to peer at Sanzo. "We've not had time to look through Turtle City for those guys. We could let Gojyo go by himself."

"They're not here," said Sanzo definitely. "And Houtou Castle sounds just the right place for them."

"Okay." Goku led the way down to the beach, and quite a way from the city. After a walk Gojyo thought far too long, he turned to them, and said apologetically, "Would you mind waiting here for a while? There are ways of summoning we don't like humans to know."

Sanzo said, "As if I want to call demons anyway." He turned his back, and folded himself down on a small dune.

After going about thirty yards further, Goku waded out into the sea. He must have been at least waist deep when he stopped. Gojyo had no scruples about straining his ears, but he couldn't hear even a whisper of sound.

They waited quite a while. Gojyo had almost convinced himself this was just to keep him from haring off to Houtou Castle, when Goku turned around and beckoned.

They came to the sea edge, and Goku beckoned again. They waded in reluctantly. Gojyo was grumbling to himself about imps. Sanzo was silent, but Gojyo could feel the anger rolling off him.

When they'd reached the demon, Gojyo asked, "How much longer do we have to wait on this pal of yours?"

Goku said, "He's here." He pointed.

The humans looked. It was a clear summer night. Well out to sea, something dark floated. Roughly disc-shaped, spotted with dull white and beaded with phospherescent green. As well as Gojyo could judge from the dark-glinting colours against the glinting dark sea, about as wide across as two main masts. Gojyo would as soon have had some overcast.

It sounded like an order when Goku told Sanzo, "Wait here. I'll need to be right beside you so he can distinguish you from food." Goku grabbed the luggage and waded out to sea before Sanzo could say anything about it.

When they'd got a bit closer, and Gojyo could distinguish the long frondy tendrils, he asked, "Why am I going first?" He added hastily, "Never mind. I don't want to know."

Gojyo was always surprised at how human Goku's laugh sounded. "You wouldn't want it any other way."

Then they waded actually into the living net. Gojyo could see long yellow barbs set in the tendrils. Those he managed to avoid, but he had to brush constantly against the tentacles themselves. They felt cold, and they just floated, as if they were made of metal. The idea was suggested by a faint grinding sound, like something mechanical.

Taking obvious care with his aim, Goku tossed their two bags onto the great back. "I'm going to put you there, now. Watch your feet."

It all looked pretty dark to Gojyo, and he strained his eyes to see what he was meant to watch for. "Those bright dots, they're eyes?" About a hundred eyes, set irregularly around the rim.

"No, there's not much use for eyes where he comes from. They're – um – like ofuda birds, but for killing things. They're poisonous. The actual edge is poisoned, too, so- "

With no more warning, he grabbed Gojyo, one hand holding the scruff of his neck, the other his belt. He threw the tall man neatly over the rim. Gojyo came down in a flurry of long limbs, remembering desperately there was something he wasn't meant to be touching, and tucking them in.

He'd been thinking of this demon as a large and very strange beast, but not now. The black back was so cold, not just the neutral cold of metal but like ice. The surface was textured so it should have felt like tortoiseshell, but didn't.

He was between two white discs. Those were where the noise was coming from. They were mouths, great circles, each a ring of knives, self sharpening teeth forever opening and closing. Well, he didn't need to be told not to go there.

Nor near the green, glowing – things. One was lying, or rooted, not too far. It looked like a small simple model of a fish. It, at least, didn't move, and Gojyo hoped that would continue.

He turned around, very carefully, and watched Goku escort Sanzo through the net.

Sanzo wasn't thrown up by the scruff of his neck. Goku picked him up around the waist, and said something with a grin before putting him carefully on the larger demon's back. Gojyo couldn't hear what, if anything, Sanzo said in return. That Goku didn't get his head smacked seemed to Gojyo most unfair. If Gojyo had done that, he'd have had his head knocked off entirely. Goku grasped the edge and clambered up with a distinct, "Yow! That smarts!"

Sanzo moved toward him. "Goku says we should wait in the centre."

Gojyo looked over a further expanse of demon, and shivered. "It's even colder there."

Sanzo huffed with impatience, and passed him, towards the centre.

It was colder. Here, the creature's sea smell suddenly took on a taste of something like dead meat. Sanzo sat in the dead centre of the cold, on a plate of dark not-horn, and assumed lotus position. He looked up at Gojyo. Impatiently, "Come on."

Gojyo sat at the very edge of the plate. As the monster began to surge forward in long sinuous waves, Gojyo found himself unsteady, and edged a little closer.

Then closer still. Sanzo radiated cold. With a sudden fear his younger friend was dying of exposure, Gojyo ignored the freezing sea wind and took off his coat, and wrapped Sanzo in it. He rubbed Sanzo's hands and arms.

Sanzo, who'd been almost relaxed, tensed back to normal. "Idiot! I was in a meditation technique. The cold wouldn't have hurt. I'd let it in, and attuned myself to it." Suddenly he shivered. Meditation seemed to have worn off.

Gojyo said meekly, "Sorry." He drew even closer and wrapped himself around Sanzo, from behind, and the coat around them both. It disconcerted Sanzo, but after obviously wondering whether to knife Gojyo, he relaxed, for Sanzo, and put his head back against Gojyo's shoulder. Gojyo shifted a little away, reluctantly.

All at once, he remembered he was on a mission which might get them killed, and sat upright to see where their pet demon had gone. Goku was at the larger demon's forward bit of edge, which probably served as a head for it. Gojyo couldn't hear anything, and if there had been words at anything like normal level he would, but something in the stance of the smaller demon convinced him they were talking in some way.

Sanzo said very quietly, "Let him talk with his own kind for a bit. Do you have any plan what to do once we get to Houtou?"

Gojyo nodded. "Sure. We sneak up on them, spy out where Cho is, break in, fight our way in until we've reduced the castle to a ruins, and rescue Cho at the very last minute." Sanzo twisted around and glared at him over his shoulder. At night his violet eyes looked blue. They still glared very effectively. Gojyo shrugged. "It worked the first time, when Gyumaoh was about to sacrifice his virgin daughter to some power of darkness, and her brother broke in and rescued her. You don't think Kougaiji and Dokugakuji sat around moaning how difficult it was - ?"

"You don't have the least idea what to do, do you?" For a moment Gojyo wondered if Sanzo was going to revoke his ban on Gojyo-eating. Then Gojyo glimpsed an expression different from the normal impatience with which he normally looked at Gojyo. More softly, "And you really would have gone up against everything in Houtou Castle, alone and with no idea what to do."

Goku suddenly shouted, closer than he'd been when Gojyo last looked, "Hey, Sanzo, we're here!"

"Can't be," said Gojyo impatiently. It was a full day's sailing with the wind for an Ezo sloop.

"It is," Goku assured him. "Sanzo, want us to drop the bum off while we go somewhere more interesting?"

After the lights of Turtle City, this beach looked bleak enough Gojyo wondered if Sanzo might agree.

Goku helped Sanzo off first. When he'd reached land, Sanzo sat on the beach. He looked controlled and graceful, but Gojyo suddenly remembered he'd had a hard day, and no rest that night.

He wasn't feeling too energetic himself. At the edge of the sea demon he looked rather blankly at Goku down in the water, before he realised Goku was waiting for him to step on his shoulder, and down. "Won't that hurt you?"

"I wouldn't offer if it did." Gojyo was balancing at his most precarious, when Goku said, "Might hurt you, though. And I will, if you don't stop distracting Sanzo with this spaniel stuff."

Gojyo stepped down much more clumsily than he should have. "How in all hells did you notice that? I've only just noticed it myself!"

"I haven't been living in a cave, you know."

Gojyo sloshed up to his full height, and opened his mouth to tell this awol prison guard just where he got off, when Sanzo called out, "Stop arguing, you two. The night's getting on."

Gojyo made to storm off through the tendrils, but Goku grasped his shoulder. "I have to keep hold of you."

"Yrcch."

"Likewise."

Once they had got off the beach, and pine forest was giving them a very little shelter from the wind, Sanzo and Goku made mage and demon gestures while Gojyo dripped, and tried to sponge himself dry with pine needles.

Sanzo told him, "Houtou Castle's that way."

Gojyo walked one step, two, then stopped. "Aren't you coming?"

"Maybe." Sanzo was looking at Goku. "That depends on what price Goku asked the demon for our passage."

The sea wind suddenly got very cold indeed. Gojyo stared at Goku.

There was enough moonlight between the trees so Gojyo could see Goku stand still with a shocked expression. Then the demon burst into protests. "No! No, I'd never do that to you, Sanzo! I know what you risked to get me out of my prison, what Takatori would have done to such a strong heaven mage in his power. I wouldn't feed you to another demon." He thought for a moment, and his tone became more its normal cheerful one. "I wouldn't even do that to the bum here." He put out his hand, and Sanzo touched it. Goku bounced back quickly, as always. "That sea demon was a pet of what died at Houtou Castle. He gave us a ride, which was a very little thing to him, and I said I'd tell him what had happened to his master."

Gojyo thought of a faithful hound, waiting centuries. Sanzo, more practical, asked, "Will he take vengeance for his master's death?"

"I didn't tell him."

Gojyo started, "But - "

Sanzo interrupted. "Komyou didn't teach me much about dealing with demons. But he did tell me it was best not to know too much about their dealings with each other. Sooner or later, you'll find out something so alien or repulsive you won't be able to deal with them right yourself."

Gojyo noticed the rasp in the velvet voice. Either he was too tired to see straight, or Sanzo was swaying slightly on his feet. Gojyo yawned extravagantly and said, "Well, whatever we do when we get there, we'll need some sleep before we do it. I'm dead beat."

Goku chimed in eagerly, "Yeah, I'm real tired, too."

"Idiots." Sanzo walked on. "The castle's a good distance from the sea. We've got a chance, but we need every minute."

It was by no means the first time Gojyo had needed to scramble through brush, and up and down small but adequate mountains, in the dead of night. The branches of this wood seemed heavier and thornier, and the ground more uneven and slippery than usual. Goku helped him once or twice, around a deadfall, or out of a boggy spot.

Sanzo ignored any offer of help from either of them. Unlike Gojyo, and even Goku, he didn't try to dodge the lashing, cutting branches, he didn't look for the easiest path through rough ground. He just walked in a straight line, and ignored the bruises it got him.

At length they saw open ground ahead of them. Not only open, but mostly dead. Gojyo smelled a faint, unpleasantly metallic smell from it, and to judge by Goku's wrinkled nose, the demon smelled it much more. About fifty feet from the abrupt edge of the vegetation was the dark, almost unlit bulk of the castle.

Gojyo said, "Stop, Sanzo!"

Sanzo seemed to find it rather hard to stop. He stumbled a few sleep walker's steps more, then flung out his arm to prop himself against a crooked tree. He didn't look around, as he asked, "What?"

Gojyo sat down. The bliss of it closed his mouth and eyes for a moment, but not for long. "These guys aren't going to just welcome in any stranger who knocks on their gate. We wait here until daylight, until well into the morning so they don't think we're a dawn attack, and then we knock on the door. And we'll ask humbly," he looked at Sanzo, who was concentrating on keeping his head erect, "I'll ask humbly, for mercy; and point out a live admiral has more ransom value than a dead one."

Sanzo laughed, very brief and tired. "The last point might carry some weight with them."

"Maybe." Gojyo thought of ruthless, inexorable Celestial bureacracy. And the equally ruthless whim of local warlords, which could be turned aside by another whim. He said, "Sit down before you fall down." He got up - he was too young for arthritis, surely? - and lumbered to help Sanzo.

* * *

The would be king Gyumaoh had built his main court on the same outsize scale as the rest of Houtou Castle. According to the stories, it had been of dark stone, with no colour, and the king had stood on a platform at the end, well above everybody else.

But time had painted the black stone green, and the great blocks were splitting like spring ice. Occasionally, a bold bird would fly overhead, though none had yet sung here. On this fine summer morning, it would take a mage to feel the ghosts. Only the gates and outer wall, magicked to a slippery smoothness to repel stealthy attacks, stood as firm as ever.

The space gave the two factions of fleetmasters room to keep apart from each other. The loot was between them. It included all prisoners except those too sick to taken from their beds. Admiral Cho had been kept apart from his men. Manacled, he'd been crowded between racks of silvershot, scattered carelessly, and a pile of Chinese charts and maps, which the Ezo had carefully packed in oiled paper.

The two white-flag factions were standing tensely,almost in fighting formation, no hand far from the sword hilt. The mages were either with their friends, or well back.

Ran's attention had been distracted by a particular red-headed windmage, with a bruised face and limp. Schuldig came in, and stared hard at Crawford; hesitating a long time before joining him at the table where his party sat. It took Ran hard effort to focus his attention where it should be, on the argument between Takatori and Omi.

Ken had been a friend of Omi's for some time. He'd told Ran how Takatori had settled with Omi years ago. Their duties were to their respective clans, and it would be treachery to let any fatherly sentiment get in the way of that duty. Ken hadn't believed it, nor did Ran, but they didn't know if Omi did.

Certainly Omi hadn't been expecting this. Perhaps his half brothers hadn't, either. They looked surprised, and almost as if they'd contradict their father. But good, obedient client clans they were, they let him sum up the Takatori position.

"This law of the fleets you talk about was a tradition for when contending parties were equal enough so neither could afford to fight. But we're strong enough so we can take it anyway."

Omi knew that. If the loot had been just precious stones and metals he'd never have dragged the fleetmasters all the way to Houtou Castle, not to mention risking his men's life like this. But it was European ships and weaponry, and the men who knew how to use them.

Crawford said mildly, "May I suggest a compromise?"

Both parties looked at him in surprise. The Tsukiyonos were expecting it to be unpleasant.

He went on, "I suggest the falcon flag be allowed to walk out with title to all ships and weapons taken in the engagement we've been discussing. The Tsukiyono party be allowed to keep all prisoners."

Takatori reddened. "And why should we compromise at all?"

"Because that's the best deal you'll get out of the Tsukiyonos. If you try to take all, they'll fight. And we'll back them."

Takatori's hands clenched into fists. "Treacherous scum! After all I've given you!"

"You've _paid_ me for services, which I gave in good measure."

"And what are the Tsukiyonos offering you?"

"I'd back the Tsukiyonos for the same reason I've been backing you." Crawford was looking at Omi, now. "Ezo's going to have to unite to deal with the rest of the world. I thought you were the best hope of that. But if the Takatoris try to pull a Gyumoah, Ezo'll find itself in civil war."

Ezo mages' loyalty lay with their sect or their clan, many would fight for Takatori. But Oracle, and the sects who looked to him for leadership, made a strong difference. All the fleetmasters watched the mages. Ran kept his eyes on the nervous and hostile guards around Takatori and his two elder sons.

Masafumi smiled at Naoe's girlfriend Nanami, and asked, "Wouldn't you and Naoe like to come with us? I can promise you your father's head."

Nanami tossed her head and walked over to Admiral Cho, who was still trying to work unobtrusively on his silver manacles. "Hakkai's already promised me. I'll stick to Hakkai. So will Nagi." Naoe followed her. His hands were free, but Ran had no doubt there was an efficient silver collar under the warm winter coat.

Having seen there was no chance he could slip out of his manacles unnoticed, Cho decided to make an important point. "All this loot you're quarrelling over is the property of His Imperial Majesty, ourselves included. While he might be disposed to generosity towards those who returned his property, he certainly has the means to recover it."

Takatori shrugged. "Work out your own ransom with Tsukiyono here."

There should, Ran thought, have been something more dramatic to start the long clan war coming, rather than these chiefs trailing off, not defeated but with the conviction they'd been cheated out of victory. In the ranks, some men, both warrriors and mages, didn't seem too sure which side they were on. There was a milling at the outer gate, with some last minute personal arguments.

At length the Takatori party was out. Oracle nodded. "Now, Naoe, shut and bar the gates."

Naoe looked at Cho, who hesitated a moment, then nodded. The great stone gates swung shut, and the tree-size bar was dropped across it.

The Ezo watched the earthmage prisoner with no limiter. A firemage had a ball flaming in his hand, and Schuldig said, "You'll burn us all." An arrow flew, and was stopped just short of Naoe's face, where it dropped to the ground. A loose circle formed around him, of men with drawn swords.

Omi ignored Naoe, and walked over to Oracle. "And why should they want to come back?"

Beyond the wall they heard a light, childish tenor yell out, "Takatori!" Takatori men shouted back.

Very soon afterward the screaming started.

Oracle said, "Keep the gates barred, Naoe."

Many of the men listening to the sounds outside were hardened cutthroats, but they listened with horror. Ran wondered how many friends, how many brothers..? Nanami was smiling, just a little.

What Omi felt, perhaps even Omi didn't know. He was watching Crawford with much the same high strung alertness Cho was. Ken and Nagi were showing honest apprehension. Ran was too busy keeping an eye on the nervous crowd. There was a good chance someone would try to take the price of a death out of Crawford's hide, and Omi would be caught right in the crossfire.

Crawford stooped close to Omi, and Omi didn't even flinch. Ran heard Oracle whisper, "Just don't be a Takatori."

Omi nodded, turned away from Oracle, and walked over to Cho. Naoe was concentrating on the gates, but Nanami watched the three approaching with her hand up her sleeve. Ran didn't like the way her wrist tensed. Possibly Omi felt the same, for he asked her courteously, "If I may borrow your knife, Lady Nanami?"

Nanami screwed up her face as she thought it over. She didn't look to anyone else for advice. Then she shook her head firmly. "It was a present from Nagi."

There was one final cry for help from beyond the wall. When it was cut off, everyone in the courtyard found himself listening. Omi turned to Ken. "Friend Ken?"

Ken handed him a knife. Omi went to Cho – the admiral didn't blink an eyelash – and bent over his manacles, using the knife to fiddle with them. Ran heard him mutter something about getting a set of lockpicks. "Admiral, we can just ransom you back to the Emperor, and you come back next year, and we do this all over again. Or we can go somewhere comfortable, sit down and arrange at least the beginnings of a treaty."

Cho was rubbing his wrists as Omi spoke. To a shifter that silver would have been no fun at all. Dressed in the same clothes he'd been taken prisoner in, with a few extra cell stains, he spoke as formally as if he and Omi had been meeting in full audience. "I have not been charged as delegate to the clans of the Ezo Islands, but to fight them."

Omi smiled, a rather sharper smile than Ran was used to seeing on his face. "As I've just been reminded, I, too, have no powers to treat with you. If you talk to Oracle, not as an envoy, you can learn what, in the future, the Emperor may ask as terms. What could be a better service to your Emperor than that?"

"Will the Oracle, then, speak for Ezo?"

"No," said Crawford mildly. No need to tell a shrewd politician that mages had been killed, just as often as men of the sword, for trying for too much power. The mages were a trifle more apt to be killed by their own side, that was all. "No one here speaks for more than a single clan or shrine. If the Emperor does want a treaty, he will have to wait on a meeting of the landsmoot."

Cho smiled politely. "I am flattered you seek my assistance in this high matter, but I'm only a humble soldier, and even there I've failed."

The Shirasagis were loyal allies of Omi's, and had quite a good intelligence service of their own. Reiichi said, "As about the most dangerous servant the Emperor has, he should be killed as quickly and cleanly as possible."

Crawford said, "I agree." He looked at Cho.

Cho looked back steadily. To the Ezo in general, "I only ask you ransom the ordinary sailors back to the Emperor."

Crawford said, "Such a dangerous enemy must be destroyed. First, let's go up to the watch tower, and see how your rescuers are getting on."

"Those can't be my rescuers. There's no one in Japan who'd lift a finger for me."

"You're wrong there, too."

Crawford turned on his heel and started towards the tower door. For once, Cho's smooth mask slipped. He looked at Omi, who smiled warmly back, and said, "I know less than you."

Not only the fleetmasters and captains followed Crawford up the stairs, with much scrambling and cursing. The watchtower part was as worn as most of the castle. The builder had never dared to suggest to Gyumaoh an armed enemy could get into the castle. The stairs had been built on a straightforward, gentle slope rather than the usual switchback, so they were still usable. But not easy. Keeping as close to Omi's left as possible, Ran decided it was best to think of it as climbing a mountain rather than stairs. At length, they stood on the mountain ledge that had been the sentinel's walk. Everyone scanned the ground outside the wall.

Dead men lay on the dead ground. Ran found himself assessing the numbers, and decided if any of Takatori's men had escaped the killing, it would be very few. Enemy or not, he was glad they lay in fighting formation.

Three figures moved there. They were walking towards the gates. Two of them were nearly there, though they were walking very slowly. The third was rushing madly after them, carrying luggage.

Ran glanced at the various expressions of the people who were watching the battlefield.

And the one who was not. Crawford was looking up, not down. His tawny, inexpressive gaze was searching the sky to the west.

Then the pupils widened and focused. He said, "Yes, Cho is too dangerous an enemy of Ezo to be let loose. But he's too valuable an ally to throw away quickly. This lady," he nodded at the sky, "carries news to make him an ally."

Some looked at the sky, some looked at the ground to the west, some people just asked each other what he was talking about. Omi prodded Ken to shut him up.

Ran recognised the bird as a falcon by the flight. But it gleamed red as a ruby, against the blue sky. It came straight toward them. No, straight toward Crawford, who put up his arm so it could land on his unprotected wrist. The murderous talents didn't pierce his skin. It looked around at the men watching with dark, proud eyes.

Crawford said, "Well timed, Lady Kitada," and lowered his arm.

In the air around it, the red spread and misted, like a drop of blood in clear water. It flowed and then solidified, and there was a woman standing on the stone ledge, a woman in the robes of a Chinese court lady, but her robes and her hair were gleaming red. Her eyes were as fierce and proud as the falcon's. She said, and she spoke Ezo like the native she looked, "For me, too. I nearly didn't make it. I couldn't have, except for the wind you sent." She turned to Cho and offered him the Ezo salute. "I have a message you must see." She used both hands to hold out to Cho Hakkai a small, thin packet wrapped in yellow silk. On the top was a heavy seal, in green wax.

Cho's eyes widened at the sight of it. Among the Ezo warriors, he bowed to it in full Chinese formality. Most carefully, he took it up, unsealed and read it. He dropped it.

Quite a few people asked questions, but his look was towards Omi's uncertain, "Fleetmaster Cho?" He waved at the package, which Ran could now see was nothing but a piece of paper, wrapped in further silk.

Omi stooped, picked it up without any ceremony, then looked uncertainly at Cho. The Admiral nodded. Omi read the Chinese ideographs, over-elaborated as they were, without trouble. "The Emperor – several absurd titles here – orders Cho Hakkai be given over to Dr Nii for research." His voice rose incredulously. "_That_ Dr Nii?" He checked something. "And the date's before Cho lost the fight." To Cho, "What on earth did you do?"

With a long, slow blink of that green eye, Cho seemed to pull himself out of his shock. "The question is what did the Emperor think I did?" He looked at Lady Kitada, with a sort of quiet, silky anger. "What did you tell him I did?"

She looked back unblinking. "I told him nothing. Yes, I was going to work in an elaborate plot against you, and with Nii. But in the end, Nii just asked the emperor, and the emperor said yes, because you weren't worth annoying Nii about."

"And my men?"

She shrugged. "Who in the Celestial Court is going to worry about the lives of a few seamen?"

Cho looked at Crawford. "What do you want?"

Crawford looked down at the gate. "Well, to start with, let's rescue your rescuers, before some firemage starts throwing things."

It was Crawford's triumph, and everyone knew it. Ran was probably the only one who noticed Schuldig prowling down the great stone stairs of the other side, still frowning.

* * *

Cho was an ally who could be given the more power because he had no obligations to any clan or shrine of Ezo. For the last couple of days, the newly appointed Marshal had been organising things and people, and Schuldig didn't like being organised. He'd have turned his skin, except Houtou Castle smelled so wrong. It was on two feet he went to the west of the castle, looking for the afternoon sun.

Schuldig had grabbed at the chance to turn off the voices when he was young. But when he followed a path around one of Houtou's outer walls, beaten so low by weather it looked like a natural ridge, and found someone unexpected, he felt, somehow, he should have known that person was there.

He'd prefer being alone, but he decided not to go back just yet. Omi and Ken had mixed the Chinese prisoners and their Ezo jailers into teams of some bizarre Western ball game. 'To reduce inter-ethnic' tensions, Omi had put it, and it looked to Schuldig as if the reduced tensions were going to lead to manslaughter, at best.

They were on the western side of the wall. Goku was stripped to the waist, luxuriating in the hot sunlight. There was a basket on the ground beside him, he seemed to be planting something from it. Not in the poisoned ground, but in the sides of the wall.

Schuldig asked, "Some man-eating flower from an ancient hell?"

"No. Peaches. Agent Kitada told Sanzo something about Nii. He wants out of here quick, but I figured I could be this way in a few centuries, so I saved the stones of the peaches I just ate."

Schuldig looked at the basket. It was a large one. "How many peaches did you eat?" Goku started counting on his fingers, then his toes. When he craned his neck to start on Schuldig's fingers, the mage said hastily, "Never mind, I don't want to know."

Being as off-hand as he could manage, Goku said, "Brought some good soil for them, from the forest. It's over there in the shade."

Schuldig didn't hurry. But he'd been raised in a nation of farmers and sailors, and now soil needed to be lugged, he found himself lugging it. Goku had stored it in old helmets from the Houtou armoury.

Bending down to put the final helmet by Goku's right foot, he saw a familiar pair of sandals. He'd encouraged Ran in the vanity of buying those expensive sandals, calfskin dyed dark red, if only to stop him buying a pair of utilitarian orange monstrosities.

Schuldig stood. "Hi, Ran." He wanted to avoid everyone, but Ran headed the list.

Ran looked at him with those unreadable eyes. Schuldig wished even more he'd somehow kept his natural talent. Even without it, he understood most people well, but one of the things he valued about Ran was that he wasn't most people. Schuldig had no idea how Ran was taking Schuldig's tries at moving closer. Were they clownishly obvious? Completely unsuspected? Simply unwelcome?

Just now his deep voice was saying, "Nanami says I owe you something." He looked at Goku, and then at the far end of the wall, more private-looking in shadow. It was so brief a flick of eyes few people could have read it.

And that easy better-than-talk was another thing Schuldig would miss, if Ran didn't want more than a neighbour.

Side by side, they walked to the private place. Totally uninterested, Goku was watering the planted seeds. Ran spoke softly anyway. "Nanami says I owe you a kiss." Far from being grateful at this help, Schuldig decided that was it. Somebody would have to do something about that kid, and something drastic. Ran went on, and Schuldig deeply hoped his guess was right, and the stiffness showed embarrassment, not displeasure, "She told me you got all those bruises for my sake."

Schuldig had almost forgotten the bruises. He scowled at the reminder. "A lot of good that did. I wanted to deck him for hitting you. I gave it my best shot, and I couldn't land one on him."

Ran looked down briefly, then up at Schuldig. "That's not your place. I know you think of me as the kid who used to follow you around, but I'm a grown man and have to take my licks myself."

That sounded a pretty good cue to Schuldig. He was on the point of explaining to Ran just how he did feel about him, when a voice rather like Ran's said, "No!" It wasn't too far away, and the man spoke loudly. Schuldig jumped.

The demon's master, and his Chinese friend, walked into view. In Sanzo's case this was more of a stride, but Gojyo's long lolloping legs had no difficulty keeping up.

Gojyo was a bit short of breath, "What the hell is the matter with you, kid? You're being a feather robed pain all round!"

"Stop hanging around looking at me as if I'd hidden your bone. Either say something or go back to women!"

Gojyo looked as if he sorely wanted a third option, then braced himself. "Right!" He was suddenly engulfing Sanzo with his long, red clothed arms, and veiling Sanzo's face with his long, red hair.

Spitting out the hair, Sanzo eventually struggled free. "Right, now we've got that settled, I want to get as much space as possible between us and Houtou Castle before dark."

Gojyo grinned. "I think it's a hell of a romantic spot."

They stood and looked at each other for a moment.

Then Goku, in sidling away, managed to kick several helmets at once.

When the clangor had died down, Sanzo snapped to his demon friend, "All packed?"

"Sure, Sanzo." Sanzo turned away from Gojyo, into his original path, and Gojyo followed him. It looked as if he'd catch up soon. Goku picked up the bags and hurried after. A few steps on, he remembered his limiter and dashed back briefly to reclaim it.

Schuldig said, "We wouldn't be like that." It wasn't a very poetic speech, but Ran wouldn't be getting a poet.

"I can't see you either doing that, or letting me do that. But we've got obstacles, too. And a big one is the one I was just saying. You're older, you're a magic user, you're used to being the boss. You're going to find it hard to treat me as a full equal, and you'll have to. Then there's - "

"But you don't find me repulsive?"

Ran's smile was worth a long wait. Then he sobered. "But there other matters to be considered seriously."

Schuldig said judiciously, "Yes. For about two seconds," and pounced.

* * *

(in a dry riverbed in West China)

Nii forgot the constant pain of his hunger, as he forgot that of his feet worn to the raw flesh, and of his fingernails torn off digging for food that generally ran away before he could catch it. He looked avidly at the falcon patrolling the sky ahead. Beside the reflex appetite to anything alive as meat, the falcon might have found prey. Nii's mouth, still burned by his last try at plant food, watered at the thought of a live mouse.

If Nii had been capable of moral indignation, he might have felt it when he'd had to flee the court. After all he had done, the Emperor had tried to have him executed for something he hadn't. True, he would have got around to researching that red-headed concubine, but she'd disappeared too soon. As it was, he'd only felt a distant amusement.

He didn't mean to waste more time serving fools, however powerful. West of West China was Shangri La, with its Buddhist magic as strong as any on Earth. Nii meant to get his share of that. He could get through these hills eventually.

He made his way forward. He could no longer walk, but found it easier by now to go on hands and knees.

Wasn't that rock on his right the same as the one that had been on his left earlier? Carefully he checked the sun, as he checked the stars at night. It shone as bright and false as they had. Nii continued in his tightening, weakening circle.

Above him, the golden, violet eyed falcon continued to pattern the sky with his wings.

FIN


End file.
